One Day for Pyro (One-Shot)
by wolverinedoctorwho
Summary: "One shudders to imagine what lies behind that mask...what thoughts of chronic and sustained cruelty..." A friendly little romp with a new take on the elusive Pyro.


_[Author's note: This is a one-shot that's been floating around in my head for awhile. I'm not used to writing TF2 stuff, and I've only played the game once, but I'm very caught up on lore. So don't beat me too harshly for this one.]_

" _One shudders to think what lies behind that mask...what thoughts of chronic and sustained cruelty…"_

Pyro stretched, wiggling their arms around in their suit and letting out a muffled yawn. They gave the flamethrower in their hands a few good tosses, wiping their mask with a free hand. They waited for the gate to open, looking around to their teammates. Spy was flicking through his disguise case, uninterested (as usual) in the men around him. Sniper was wiping his scope off, muttering to himself about good hideouts to snipe from. Heavy and Medic were joking around as usual, though Medic threw occasional glances at Sniper. Scout was trading tales with Engineer, who was pretending to listen while he tinkered with his machines. Demoman and Soldier were talking quietly in the corner about God knows what. The only one who wasn't talking was Pyro, who had given up on discussion long ago. It was too much work talking through the mask.

Besides, fire was much more expressive.

The gates opened, and Pyro took a deep breath through their mask. The bright colours of the battlefield swirled and shone around them, and they giggled. They loved this. Running around at what felt like the speed of sound, blowing bubbles everywhere, playing with the other mercenaries. They lived for every battle.

They felt something hit them in their head, and they woke up in the spawn room again. After all the burns and kills and mutilations the Pyro had faced in their lifetime, the respawn system didn't seem to know what gender to respawn Pyro as. Sometimes they would come back female, sometimes male, sometimes both, sometimes a horrible neither. They felt like they remembered having a solid gender at one point, but, to be honest, they really didn't care anymore. They usually came back to the respawn pretty quickly in battles, so there was no point in getting attached to a specific gender identity. Occasionally they were jealous of the other mercenaries for having such defined identities. There was no way to know what lay beneath the suit.

They blew some bubbles around, ignoring a scream of "fire!". They loved playing with fire, but for some reason they never saw it on the battlefield. Only bubbles. It was ok. There was plenty of fire back at the base after the battle was over. Speaking of which, they had taken the first control point and were almost to a second. The other team wasn't very good, and were beaten easily. Pyro cheered with their teammates, walking back to base with the group of men. They all went their separate ways, and Pyro headed out to their shack. It was a little tin thing at the edge of the compound. Pyro had had a room inside the base like all the others at one point, but they had started one too many fires and Medic had kicked them out "before you burn us all to death". Again, they didn't mind. It just meant they could be a little more free with their fire. They started a small one in the usual space, across from their bed. They had no blankets, having used them for kindling. Occasionally one of the other mercenaries would bring in a blanket for them, but it was usually gone pretty quickly.

There was a knock at the door, and Scout poked his head in.

"Ey, flame-head," he taunted. "Dinner's ready." Pyro looked at him, then back at the fire. They didn't want to leave a perfectly good flame to burn out.

Scout sighed. "C'mon. Medic says he'll tube feed 'ya if you don't come."

Pyro sighed back, patting out the fire with their hands before standing up. Scout muttered something under his breath before shaking his head and walking back to the main compound. The mercenaries had set up a designated area for their "dining hall" (a conference hall that wouldn't have been used anyway) when they first started the job, and it was common to find at least two of the men hanging out in there at any point in time. Now, though, they were all seated around the table, waiting for Medic to bring dinner out. They usually took turns cooking, and tonight it was Medic's turn. It was interesting to see what international things each mercenary would come up with, and it was obvious who the good cooks (Medic, Spy, and Engineer) and who the bad cooks (Scout, Pyro, and Demoman) were. Heavy, Sniper, and Soldier were alright, but they were better helpers than solo cooks. Demoman and Pyro had teamed up to make dinner once, and they were still cleaning the burn marks off the ceiling. Pyro didn't have a favourite, since their sense of taste changed with every respawn (which was incredibly annoying). Sometimes he preferred Medic's clean and sharp classics, others it was Spy's French cuisine, but most of the time it was Engineer's Southern comfort food. Pyro had a soft spot for Engineer, though they never acted on it. They made a good team on the battlefield, with Pyro defending Engineer's dispensers and turrets from enemy Spies. Engineer was usually pretty alright with Pyro hanging out by his machines, since he couldn't easily set them on fire. It was a mutual relationship.

Heavy almost jumped out of his chair as Medic walked in the door, wheeling a tray of food. He helped the doctor put all the pots and bowls and such on the table, and then the room filled with noise as the mercenaries started eating. The sound of silverware and dishes clanking together joined the already noisy conversations to fill the room with clamour. Everything was still slightly muffled from inside Pyro's helmet, but it was still a lot of noise.

Pyro opened the gas hole in the front of their mask, spooning food into their mouth. There was no danger of the others getting gassed, since the gas wasn't even on when they weren't on the battlefield. You couldn't really see into their mask, and nobody at the table really wanted to sneak a peek.

Since eating took a long time for Pyro, they looked around the table, observing the other mercenaries. Spy and Sniper were trading insults over the table, with Medic changing his focus from Sniper to Heavy every few seconds. Heavy was focused on eating, but would look over to Medic every once in awhile and smile. Demoman and Soldier were talking about weapons, and Scout was chatting with Engineer about music. Everyone looked happy to Pyro.

After dinner, Heavy stayed to clean up, and Scout ran off to who knows where. Pyro bumbled around the base a little bit before heading back to their shack. Nobody really hung around long after dinner, as they all had their own things to do before they went to bed. Occasionally Pyro would walk around the base in the middle of the night to see who was up, and Engineer and Medic were usually the last to go to sleep. One time, Pyro had sleptwalked into Engineer's room and fell asleep on one of his worktables. They had woken up the next morning with a work blanket thrown over them and a slightly shivering Engineer in a chair next to them. Pyro didn't make a habit of visiting Medic late at night unless they didn't plan on sleeping for a week. They weren't really comfortable with blood and gore, and had nightmares about seeing dead people whenever they stumbled into Medic's room.

Pyro walked into their shack, setting up a small fire on the floor. They sat down on their floor mattress, having pulled it off the bedframe months ago to be closer to the fire. It was starting to get cold, and soon not even a fire would be able to keep them warm. The suit kept Pyro from feeling too much heat, but it wasn't the best at keeping out the cold. And when it rained, it turned into a pile of wet rubber.

Pyro pulled their limbs together, curling up on the mattress. They were starting to regret burning the last blanket. They fell asleep pretty quickly, though, having always been an easy sleeper.

Engineer poked his head into the shack, staring down at the Pyro. They were such a cute sleeper, even when their face was behind the mask. He crept in, a silvery blanket hooked on his arm. It was something he'd been working on, a heated blanket that was comfortable but couldn't burn. He draped it over the Pyro, smiling a bit as he watched their slow breathing. He wasn't sure if he was in love with the mysterious merc, since it was weird to love someone you couldn't look in the eyes (at least to him), but he felt something for the little flame baby, a kind of paternal instinct he didn't really understand. The Pyro was just to childlike that it brought out the dad in him.

He tucked the Pyro in and chuckled softly as they shifted around, getting warmer and more comfortable. He rubbed their mask the way you would rub a child's head, then straightened up and walked out of the room. It was late, and he had things to do in the morning.


End file.
